Having It All One Shots
by Babylawyer
Summary: One shots set in my Having It All verse
1. You Don't Know

**An angsty flashforward where a patient's tragedy forces Regina to deal with her own bad news. This is inspired by Katelyn Tarver's You Don't Know, a beautiful but very sad song.**  
 **TW: Miscarriage, infertility**

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She's tired, so so tired but she knows sleep will evade her. She needs her work, needs to try to maintain a sense of normalcy. It's a struggle to fill in her paperwork when she's this tired and this numb, but she needs work, needs to be doing something, anything but sitting and stewing in her own thoughts.

This was the first time she didn't feel the urge to cry when they told her it didn't take, again. That her body had failed her yet again.

Before she'd been angry, sad, disappointed but this time, she felt nothing. It's been three days and she feels not exactly numb, but down and exhausted, like nothing matters and nothing ever will matter again. And maybe that's better, maybe it's better not to feel than to feel the pain of perpetually failing.

Logically she knows it's not her failing, that there is nothing she could have done better. She's a doctor and she would be the first one to tell her patients not to think like that. But nobody else is in her head so she can think what she wants, and if she wants to blame herself there's no one to stop her. And hey, it's called 'Recurrent Implantation Failure', failure is in the name. She won't voice it though, won't tell Robin because then he'd try to comfort her and it's not what she needs right now. Right now she wants to be not okay, to think her negative thoughts and stew in her relative numbness. And really the fault does lie within her, with her stupid reproductive system that seems hellbent on denying them a family.

Work is supposed to be her distraction but of course, it's a slow day when what she really needs is a non-stop surgery after surgery kind of day. She's been staring at the same chart for five minutes, so it seems catching up on non-essential paperwork isn't happening today.

Her pager saves her from finding something else to do. A pregnant mom, fell in the shower. She grabs Mary Margaret on her way, will let her do the heavy lifting and she'll supervise.

She can't help but stare at Mary Margaret's cute little baby belly, finally big enough to show in her scrubs. She feels...

Jealous, that's what it is, that ugly green-eyed monster making itself known again. Why can't that be her, why does David get to be so lucky while she goes without? This, this is why Robin told her not to go to work today. Why he bothered her all morning to reconsider going in and urged her not to. She hasn't seen him since she told him to fuck off and stormed out. Though she knows she should apologize she can't bring herself to care. It's just one more thing that's gone wrong she doesn't want to deal with.

She's on autopilot as they walk to the patient's room, Mary Margaret chatting away aimlessly in the background. They round the corner at the same time as Merida, an orthopedic surgeon which means the patient must have fallen hard.

"I got a page but no info, you know what's up?" Merida asks and Regina lets her hand hover on the door handle.

"Pregnant mom slipped and fell in the shower, that's all I know."

She opens the door and holds it for Mary Margaret and Merida who make their introductions. When she introduces herself she can hear how stiff and forced her voice sounds but to her relief, no one reacts.

The patient tells them the story as they get set up, of how she fell and messed up her wrist. Regina sticks near the back, letting Mary Margaret take the lead.

While she waits Merida gently moves the patient's arm for a better view. The woman (shit Regina was not paying attention when she said her name and doesn't have the chart to check, what a stellar doctor she is) groans as Merida tells her, "That's a nasty break."

And it really is, Regina's seen her fair share of broken bones but for some reason, this one throws her, makes her uncomfortable. The room suddenly feels warmer and that sickening sterile smell becomes overwhelming. She needs to breathe just breathe, she gets knee deep in uteruses all the time, she shouldn't be feeling squeamish over a broken bone. God, she's off of her game today. Fuck Robin was right, she hates that he was right, hates that she's mad he was right and just, ugh, this day needs to end.

The patient refuses pain meds, so she speaks up from her corner.

"We would never offer something that would hurt the baby, these pain meds in that dosage are okay to have. We wouldn't offer them to you if there were too many risks."

But still she refuses and it's her choice so Regina sits back again, watching. Mary Margaret is slower than she would be, she'd probably be finished by now, but as always Mary Margaret has been chatting up the patient. Sometimes Regina finds it endearing, but days like today, it's irritating. She tries to contain her scowl, but if she doesn't oh well, whatever.

When they start delving into pregnancy stories, her gut twists painfully. This, this she doesn't want to hear right now and this dawdling has gone on far too long.

"Are you planning on doing an ultrasound in my lifetime Dr. Blanchard?" God, she's a bitch today, no wonder Robin's avoiding her. She deserves it, she knows she does, she was horrible to him. She's terrible, toxic, a failure, and fuck she has a patient, focus, she needs to _focus._

"Yes, right, sorry Judy we should probably get to checking the little guy, eh?"

Regina watches carefully as Mary Margaret places the gel, her mind still buzzing, the air still cloying. Breathe, breathe, she needs to breathe, needs to get herself in control. She is fine.

She's not fine, but there's nothing she can fucking doing about that right now, so she needs to stay as close to it as she can.

And god, how fucking long does it take to check the baby, her anger is building, an irrational fire that's about to explode all over Mary Margaret if she doesn't pick up the damn pace.

Mary Margaret says a quiet, "Doctor Mills," and of course it's hesitant, Mary Margaret not wanting to call attention to her own ineptitude. Regina huffs a sigh before coming over to deal with her incompetence.

She barely hears the whispered, "I can't find a heartbeat," and it doesn't really register what Mary Margaret's issue is until she's taken over and sees it herself.

Just like that all of her anger falls away and she's being swallowed by pain, by sorrow. It's unfair, it's so unfair, oh god, _oh god_.

She can't- she can't take this.

Her heart is racing, she can feel her pulse thudding and her stomach is clenching, that cloying sterile smell overwhelming her again. Her stomach is twisting and shit, shit she's going to throw up. She needs to get out of here, now.

Biting back tears she gives the lamest excuse ever, "Would you excuse me just a moment I've got an uh…"

Bile is rising in her throat and a tear is about to fall so she turns and flees, only just catching the concerned looked Mary Margaret and Merida throw at her.

She races to the bathroom, barely holding down the sobs that are threatening to consume her, barely holding back from vomiting. She holds her hair as she gags, her body revolting against her again, emptying her stomach as tears stream down her face. When there's nothing left she flushes and sinks back so she's leaning against the stall.

It's not fucking fair, and how is she supposed to tell that woman, that her baby didn't make it. It's cruel, horrible, soul-crushing and she can't bear to give her that pain but she has to, it's her damn job.

It's too much, it's all too much, she can't tell her that, she can't, it's too hard. It's _not fair_. It's not fair that their patient started her day off like any other day, took one little tumble and lost her baby. Babies are too fragile, and why can't she protect them, why can't she fix this? Why is it that this kid and her embryos never get to see a sunrise, never get be held in their mother's arms, never live?

She can't even bring herself to care about how loudly she's sobbing because it's just too much, it's so unfair and she can't handle this. And god why now, why today, why today of all days did a slip have to ruin some poor couples life and why, why did they have to come to her, to make her the bearer of the worst news?

She hears the door open and she just knows it's Mary Margaret and sure enough, there's that sickly sweet tone, "Regina, Regina are you okay?"

She should have locked herself in an on-call room, ensured no one could bother her.

Then Mary Margaret utters the three words that force her to get up off of the floor and stop ignoring her. "I paged Robin."

"No, please, don't, I'm..." she goes say she's fine but she's so clearly not, "just please, tell him not to come."

She can't face him right now, not after what she said this morning.

"Regina, he's already on his way, it's okay."

"No! God, please, tell him you were wrong, tell him I'm okay, just god, _please_ I can't see him right now, _I can't_." Her voice grows more and more desperate as she starts to work herself back up into a panic, anxiety lacing through her stomach, her breath quickening audibly.

"Okay, okay I will," Regina can feel her heart rate still increasing, can hear the pace of her quick shaky breaths picking up. She can't see him right now, she can't be like this, she needs…

"It's okay Regina, I told him you're okay, do you think you can come out now? I locked the main door, it's just us.

The main door locks, dammit she knew that, had been too focused on not puking on the floor earlier to think of it.

She doesn't want to come out, doesn't want anyone to see her like this, she feels like shit, and probably looks it too. There's no way in hell it won't be obvious she's been crying. It's mortifying, absolutely devastatingly embarrassing that she can't handle her shit enough to _do her damn job_. Medicine is the one thing she's good at and today she's failing at it too.

The thing is Mary Margaret already knows she's been crying so hiding her face really won't make any difference. Still, it's easier to pretend in here, so she'll wait, calm down a bit, let the flush fade from her face.

"I just need a min-nute." More tears fall as her voice hitches, dammit, dammit why can't she get herself in control. She can't succeed at anything, can't even calm herself down, and maybe that's why-

Her next sob is loud, too loud, and she tries to choke it down, but it still echoes in the silence.

She's sitting on a bathroom floor, lord knows how many germs she's stewing in, but somehow, for now, this is better than going out, than facing Mary Margaret and her cutesy baby belly.

That thought makes more tears fall. God, she's such a horrible person. She knows Mary Margaret is worried about her, is being a good friend, knows her silence is probably only making her more worried.

She's just such a fucking disaster right now, and it's hard to be that way in front of anyone. She'd rather die than have people know she's feeling this way, but the cat is out of the damn bag now, so what is she to do? How does she minimize the damage? Stop the gossip and whispers. She's a fucking attending, head of the hospital's premier department and she can't handle what is an unfortunate (and soul-crushing) reality of her job.

"It's okay to be upset Regina, you're the one that taught me that. That feeling something when things go wrong doesn't make me weak, it makes me human. That this idea we have to always be detached and can't care is just a manifestation of toxic masculinity."

She remembers that conversation, vividly. She remembers comforting her back when Mary Margaret was still just her ex-husband's girlfriend, the intern she loved to get a rise out of, not her friend. It really was a turning point in their relationship.

Staying on this nasty germ infested floor is starting to seem slightly worse than going out and facing her. All of her options suck but it's time to get up.

Her knees are shaky as she stands and she swallows down her pride as she tells her, "I'm coming out now but, um, can you get me some mouthwash?"

"Of course, I'll be right back Regina."

That's what she was counting on, having this moment alone to look in the mirror and compose herself. The first thing she does when she hears the door close behind Mary Margaret is dash out and lock it. She will let her back in, but there's no way in hell she's letting anyone else see her like this. One person is bad enough.

Her face is red and splotchy, her eyes tear-swollen. Somehow, her mascara hasn't run, which is a miracle but also explains why it's such a pain to remove.

She splashes cold water on her face, dabs some on the back of her neck, on her forearms, hoping that force cooling down her body will eliminate the redness. It's somewhat effective, she looks like slightly less of a disaster when she hears Mary Margaret hit the door and curse softly, obviously expecting it to open. On a different day that would be funny, but today it just is.

She unlocks the door and lets her back in, grabbing the mouthwash from her without making eye contact and whispers, "Thank you," as Mary Mary Margaret locks the door again.

She can see Mary Margaret watching her, sees her concerned eyes reflected in the mirror as she gargles the mouthwash. She wishes she wouldn't do that, it's unnerving being stared at.

She breaks the silence after she spits to ask, "Did you, t-" her voice catches and she huffs but continues on, "Did you tell the patient-"

Mary Margaret cuts her off and for probably the first time ever she's happy about it. "I did."

Fuck, that should have been her, she shouldn't have left it to Mary Margaret with her baby bump taunting them. At the same time though, she's grateful, there is _no way_ she could handle telling them and seeing their reaction without falling apart again.

"You don't have to tell me what's going on, I'm just worried about you."

She sighs, "We tried, again."

She doesn't need to say anymore, can see the sympathy on Mary Margaret's face as she grabs Regina into a hug.

"I am _so_ _sorry_ Regina."

Her eyes are welling up again so she doesn't say anything, just sniffles in Mary Margaret's arms as she rubs her back gently, soothingly.

It's surprisingly comforting and Mary Margaret stays silent, doesn't mention her tears. Doesn't tell her it's going to be okay or to keep her head up or any of that other bullshit she's heard over and over throughout this process.

Regina doesn't know how long they stay there but the tears stop and she pulls away to grab a Kleenex. She blows her nose and the grabs another to wipe her face. She's a mess, an absolute mess, what a nightmare.

She sighs heavily, and Mary Margaret asks, "When did this happen?"

"We found out on Friday, I already had the weekend off, and I shouldn't have come to work today. Robin told me not to and we got in a stupid fight and I was a huge bitch to him. But I just, I just needed a distraction, and I thought work would help. And it did for a while. I had that surgery this morning and was able to turn my brain off, but then it didn't. And then _that happened_ and it was just too much."

Mary Margaret grabs her hand, squeezing it as she asks, "Is that why you didn't want him here?"

Regina looks down at her feet before she answers, "I didn't want him to be able to say I told you so. You know what I said to him, he told me he was only looking out for me and I told him to fuck off and to stay out of my business then I stormed out the door. I was _horrible._ "

No. No she is _not_ going to cry again.

"Do you honestly think he would say I told you so?"

And okay, no, she doesn't. He might think it but he would never ever say it to her face because he's not cruel like she is. He's a good person, too good for her, she doesn't deserve him.

"No, I don't I'm just-" words fail her again because she doesn't know what she is right now, everything is in disarray.

"He's outside you know." She sucks in a breath at that, she's not surprised, not really, it's just like him, but still, she was so terrible to him that he shouldn't want to be around her.

"Since when?"

"Since I paged him, he said he'd give you your space but that he wanted to be here in case you changed your mind."

He's such a good man, she wishes that she was even half the person he is. She's not worthy of him, but she loves him and she's selfish. She'll never be what he deserves but somehow he thinks he's the lucky one and she's not about to try and change his mind.

She looks herself over in the mirror, she's passable, her sunglasses will do the trick. If she keeps her eyes down on her way to the locker room she should be able to avoid detection, make her way out with some semblance of dignity.

She takes a breath and then unlocks the door. She steps out and there he is, pulling her into a tight hug and whispering, "I love you," into her hair. She buries her face in his chest, her arms down at her sides still. She revels in the embrace and then slowly pulls away. Just when she thought he couldn't be any more perfect she sees her bag hanging off of his shoulder.

"Let's go home, love." He says and she nods, grabbing her bag and fishing out her sunglasses.

They make their way to their building hand in hand, she doesn't say anything and neither does he. It's not uncomfortable per se but it's not their usual and that coupled with how terrible she was to him in the morning makes it disconcerting.

He breaks the silence when they cross the street a block away from the hospital. "Love, I'm worried about you."

How can he be so good, be worried about her after all she's put him through, how on earth did she get this man. "I'm sorry, I just, I really thought work would help and it did, until it didn't."

She waits for even a semblance of an _I told you so_ but all he says is, "I'm sorry too, I _really_ wish that it did."

She can't help herself and asks, "How are you so perfect?"

His face twists in confusion, and as they walk in the door of their building she explains, "You were right about all of it, I should have listened to you this morning but instead, I was awful and I haven't even said sorry for that yet and you're still here and won't even say I told you so."

He stops them for a second, pulls her over to the side with him out of the way. He turns so they are facing each other, so he can look right into her eye as he says, "You don't need to apologize for this morning, it's fine."

"No it's not, don't say that it's not. I lashed out at you said some horrible things when you were only trying to help. You aren't my punching bag, a bad day is no excuse for me to treat you like that. And I know you are hurting too, and I love you, so please, let me say sorry."

He nods. "Apology accepted."

She gives him a tight smile, one that she knows doesn't reach her eyes and then leans in and presses her lips to his. She grabs his hand again and leads him to the elevator. As soon as they walk in the door, she heads straight for the bedroom, doesn't even bother changing her clothes or turning on the light, just curls up in bed.

Robin lingers in the doorway, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She doesn't, not at all, she's all cried out and exhausted. "No, but, can you hold me for a while?"

He does, and she slowly drifts off.

She's groggy and disoriented when she comes to. There's a dull ache in her head that a glass of water will probably solve. Robin's asleep beside her so she shimmy's out of his arms, trying her hardest not to disturb him.

She makes her way to the bathroom and shuts the door slowly. Only then does she turn on the light. It was a mistake, the pain in her head increasing as the switch from darkness to light burns her retinas. Once her eyes adjust the pain dulls again. She fills the little cup in the bathroom and downs it. She should go grab a real glass but she doesn't, she just fills the little cup again and then brings it back with her into the bedroom.

She crawls back into bed and Robin mumbles, "What time is it babe?" and she jumps. She's not normally so skittish, must be a lingering after-effect of all the tension earlier.

She looks at the clock, "It's 7:30 babe."

It feels later than that but it's not. It's too early to go back to sleep even though she wants to, but if she sleeps now she'll be wide awake at 4am.

Robin must think the same thing because he sits up and turns on the bedside lamp. This light is much more muted, doesn't shock her like the bathroom light had.

She cuddles up in his arm, buries her face in his chest and takes in his comforting scent. His hand idly strokes her back and she sighs pleasantly.

She looks up at him and he smiles down at her. It's what she needs to be brave, to tell him what happened.

"A woman, she fell in the shower and lost her baby. That's what happened. Then all of a sudden it all just came back and I'd been feeling numb and exhausted but then it was just a wall of pain and I couldn't take it. And I was embarrassed and I didn't feel like I deserved to be comforted, not after how I treated you in the morning."

He presses a kiss to her forehead as she pauses. "It was so horrible Robin that poor couple and I just thought about how unfair it all is."

She stops as she comes to a realization. "I don't think I can do it again, just the thought of making it over that hurdle, getting one to implant only to lose it later. It's too much. I don't know what that couple went through to get to that moment but I don't think I could survive that."

She studies his face, wishing it would show some clue as to what he was feeling.

"I think we should try to adopt. What we are trying to do, it's too hard, on both of us. I don't want it to be such a battle and there are so many children out there. I never needed a baby that shared our DNA. However we get our child they will be our child."

He's so convincing, there is no way he's saying it just to humour her.

"How long have you felt this way?"

He shrugs, "I've always thought DNA doesn't define a family. But after the first two times, I really started thinking adoption would be better. But I didn't want to push and you wanted to try again, and as I said I just want our child. I don't care how we get them."

"You should have said something."

"Would it have made a difference? You wanted to try again and I wasn't against it, don't take me as saying that, and I hoped it would work this time. But I was so so worried about what happened if it didn't. You aren't the best at letting things out love and you hadn't let yourself grieve. And I think I was pushing you to do that, which wasn't productive, but I knew you were hurting and I wanted to be able to do something, but I didn't know how to help."

He knows her so well. "You did help, you have no idea how much. I don't know how I would have made it through this whole process without you. You were my rock and I love you for it but this, us, it can't be all about me. You have needs too, and we need to be better at talking about them, about what we want."

"You're right, I should have mentioned it earlier."

She smiles up at him. "So adoption? Where would we even start?"

He laughs awkwardly. "I may have already done all the research, I just wanted to know what was out there. I can make a call in the morning, unless you want to wait."

"No, make the call, hell call now if you want to, let's turn this shitty shitty day around."

He chuckles at that. "They closed at 6 love, but first thing tomorrow I'll make the call,"

She shakes her head, and confusion flickers across his face. "No, we will make the call, no more me doing one thing and you another, let's do it together."

He gives her the first genuine smile she's seen all day. "You know there's nothing I like better. Do you want my research, I mean I know the place I like but we really should make that decision together."

"I trust you, but we do have an hour or so until I can go to bed without waking up super early so why don't you give me the low down."

He gets his laptop and that's how they spend the rest of their night, cuddled up together as she reads and peppers him with questions.

The next morning they make the call and schedule their intake meeting for the next week. She feels calmer than she has in weeks, sadness still lingers but it's softer, much of it replaced with excitement over their new journey.

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 **Please let me know what you think :)**


	2. Marry Me

**A Prequel to Having It All - Robin dealing with his feelings as Regina gets married to David.** **Inspired by the song Marry Me by Thomas Rhett**

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Robin is out drinking, drowning his sorrows with one of the nurses and his mate Will. He's supposed to be taking his mind off of Regina, but it's not working and he can't stop thinking about her. Will had been subtly distracting him, but he now he's chatting up the cute blonde bartender and Robin can't help but think back to Regina.

He remembers when he saw her, that first day in med school. He was immediately struck by just how beautiful she was, and then she opened her mouth, telling a guy off and he knew at that moment he wanted to get to know her better.

She's his best friend, and that attraction has never faded, but she has someone and she's happy. He won't get in the way of it.

They were in all of the same classes in their first year of med school, being assigned by last name, he's an L and she's an M. She was getting over a break-up and so was he, so he waited, content with being her friend as they navigated their new reality as med students. What he didn't know was that his competition was also in their classes. David Nolan, he looked like Prince Charming and all the girls swooned over him. Regina claimed she didn't get it, that his looks were overrated and Robin didn't think much of it. That is until he saw them together at party, saw them kissing passionately in the corner, as he realized he waited too long.

He'd hoped it would flicker out but as Regina told him how sweet he was and that Robin would love him, his hope waned. Regina Mills and David Nolan, they were the power couple of their med school.

He thought he might have a chance after med school, if somehow they ended up in the same place, which they did. When David didn't get an internship at the same hospital, and they grew distant, he saw his opportunity coming.

Then he got the phone call, he could barely make out what she was saying at first but then he caught proposed and engaged and he knew he'd missed his chance. When he got the invite he knew it was too late. She'd always be the one that got away.

She's his best friend and he's not in love with her, but he's close. It's so hard because he wants her to be happy, desperately, but he wants her too, in a way he can never have. It hurts, and he knows he should take some space but the thought of staying away is torture. She asked him to be in the wedding party and for the first time he said to no to something she asked of him that she really wanted. He would have been one of David's groomsmen and he couldn't. He can't stand up there and pretend he's happy _for David_. He and David get along fine, really it's for Regina—if he wasn't so hung up on Regina he would probably like him more, they'd probably be a lot closer but it is what it is.

They are getting married tomorrow and every time he thinks of it, it stabs him right in the gut. But hopefully, hopefully, after that Robin will _finally_ start to get over this. It's been five years of silent suffering seeing the two of them together. The only thing that makes it worthwhile is that David makes her happy, he's seen it first hand. It both hurts and helps. It's part of what makes this so hard because he knows he's the bad guy if he says anything. He can't say anything, he will not ruin this for her, he cares for her too much to do that.

Will starts making his way back over from that bar and that's good, that's what he needs a distraction from his thoughts and what ifs.

"Cheers mate," Will says passing him a dark shot. He takes it, doesn't care what it is and downs it. And oh, it's tequila, probably not the best to mix with the double whiskey he's almost finished but whatever. Really he could use another (or several more) of those shots, to turn off his brain. "So do ya wanna talk about it?"

He hasn't told Will how he feels about Regina, hasn't told anyone and won't, so he plays dumb. "What do you mean?"

"Rob, I know we've only known each other for about ten months but I notice things, I've seen the way ya look at her, I can keep pretendin' I dunno why we're drinkin' if ya wanna."

And shit, "Am I really that obvious?"

"Nah mate, ya good, I justa, I've been where ya are so I know."

And that he wants to know more about but first, he downs the last drop of his whiskey and stands up on shaky legs, an oh he's actually a bit drunk. "What can I get ya?" he asks Will.

"More of the same, and ey, another round of dem shots migh' be good yeah?"

Will guards their table while he gets the drinks. He can't carry four drinks sober, let alone in his tipsy state, so he runs the shots over and comes back for the drinks.

"Cheers," he says clinking shot glasses with Will. They both grimace a bit at the finish, Robin had asked if they had better tequila but no such luck. Whatever though, this will work.

He just needs to get his mind off of her, the one he will never have, the one he needs to be content with being her _friend_ and friend only. He's letting go of her tomorrow, he _has to_.

"So tell me about this girl…" he says and lets himself get distracted by Will's sad story about Anastasia, who married another man and then changing completely from the woman he fell for.

It's a sad story, and all it does is remind him of Regina. She's beautiful, passionate, so smart, determined but fiery. She'll call you on your bullshit faster than anyone and he loves that about her. She's not perfect, no one is, but even the things that annoy him about her—how she stands up for herself against everyone but her mother, that she will just leave her garbage on his coffee table no matter how much he gripes, that she's so damn bullheaded you have to show her eight different forms of proof to get her to begrudgingly admit she was wrong—he would never ever change them.

"Ya gotta tell 'er mate." He shakes his head, he cannot do that, will not do that. "Don' be as dumb as me mate, you hafta know, or you'll always wonder."

"I can't…" shit there's a lump in his throat and no dammit, he is not going there. He lets out a shaky breath, "I missed my chance, come tomorrow I'm…" he lets out another, "I'm letting her g-go."

Will looks him over concerned and then bless him suggests, "More shotsss?"

Everything from that point is a blur. He vaguely remembers walking down to the karaoke bar and singing (oh god) melancholic country love songs with Will. It had been an interesting night, that's for sure.

His head is throbbing his whole body protesting the night before's poor choices. He wants to vomit and not just because today is the day. Thinking of Regina and David makes everything hurt more. He showers, cleans himself up, fills his flask with whiskey and takes a shot. Nothing like some hair of the dog, right?

His heart is aching as he imagines just how beautiful she will look. She'll have that radiant smile lighting up her whole face, the one that makes his heart flutter, but it won't be for him.

He puts on his black suit, black tie and tries to look anything but devastated and totally fails, great. He doesn't know what to do but he needs to pull himself together.

He's pacing around his place trying to think about anything else when his phone starts ringing. He knows before he picks it up and confirms it that it's Regina Mills, soon to be Regina Nolan.

"What's going on darling?" He asks in lieu of a greeting, it's her wedding day she wouldn't be calling unless something was wrong.

He hears her sniffle and oh shit. "I…" there's another sniffle and then, "n-evermind, this was stupid."

"Regina where are you?"

"T-he h-h-hotel."

"I'm on way darling, I'll be there in ten minutes okay, you sit tight."

He breezes past her mother, ignoring her protests when he arrives. He finds Regina alone, sitting, trying her damndest not to cry and he can't help but be struck by how stunning she is. Her hair is up an intricate bun thing and her dress is stunning. She has no makeup but she doesn't need it—he knows she'd disagree with that, but now is not the time for that, she needs to be comforted over whatever has her in this state.

"What happened?" he asks as he wraps his arms around her from behind.

She stands, turns to face him and buries her face in his chest and sobs. They stay like that, him running a hand gently down her back as she slowly calms down.

She pulls her face away embarrassed as she grabs for a Kleenex to blow her nose and, in true her fashion, drops in on the table behind her.

She sighs and hugs him again, "I was so happy everything was going perfect and then Mother got here and she said some things and…" she takes a shaky inhale, and shakes her head. God he _hates_ her mother. "What she said isn't important but it just made me feel…" her voice drops so low he can barely hear her even though there's only a couple of inches between her lips and his ear. "... inadequate."

His belly burns with rage, fuck Cora Mills. "You are brilliant," he assures her, "David is so lucky to have you."

"Is he though? I am nothing special and he's perfect. He's kind, sweet, caring, patient, all the things I'm not."

"Darling look at me, you _are_ something special. And you love him don't you."

She nods, "So so much."

"He's a damn lucky man to have you loving him, you hear me. You are all of those things you just listed except patient, and I and I'm sure David too, wouldn't have you any other way. _You_ aren't the lucky one he is."

She smiles then and mouths a _Thank you,_ before grabbing him for a tight hug. His breath catches because this is it. This needs to be his last moment of feelings of Regina Mills. He needs to let her go right here right now.

She pulls away and eyes him suspiciously, "Why are you crying?" Shit! But then she laughs lightly, "Who knew you were such a sap."

He chuckles, god if only she knew but this is good, is better, so he teases, "Someone's been rubbing off on me."

He earns himself a good slap to the arm for that and an indignant "Hey."

He sticks his tongue out at her and she laughs full bellied and it's stunning, but he can't be looking at her like this anymore. He indulges, one last longing look, and then he clears his throat looks away and asks, "Shouldn't you have a million people fawning over you right now?"

She snickers, "Just a makeup artist who will be here…" she looks down at the clock and gasps, "Oh, 15 minutes ago."

"I'll get out of your hair then," he says and presses a soft kiss to her cheek as he tells her, "Don't let her get you down again, okay?"

She smiles and nods and his heart aches but he keeps a smile plastered on his face.

He keeps that fake smile on his face all through the ceremony. She's gorgeous and he can't help but stare and decides tonight he can stare all he wants but that will be it. Once he's given himself permission he can't stop, because he knows he will have to after this night is over. He lets himself be touchy-feely at the reception, they always are anyway and he even gets a little bit flirty. They are all drunk so no one is the wiser.

He watches her and David kiss, watches her look at David with love in her eyes, the way he will never get, and tells himself to be happy for her. It's hard but he's glad he got to see it, glad he was able to be here for her. He will take the pain if it means he gets more time with her. He will replay these images over and over in his head, how _happy_ she is, and he will get over her. She got married today and her daddy wasn't the only one giving her away. He will never mess this up for her, he's going to do whatever it takes to get over her, starting tomorrow.

It was easy the first two weeks when she was away. But when she got back he found himself saying tomorrow again and again. And then the tomorrows turned into next month until he started just telling himself he was over her. If he said it enough times one day it would become true.

It sort of worked, or at least he told himself it did. He still ached sometimes but he pushed it down, didn't let himself indulge. David was good to her, in the beginning at least, and he managed to transfer to their hospital as part of a merger in his residency. The three of them endured the long hard hours, traded horror stories and worked their way through the grind that is a medical residency. Robin saw a lot more of Regina because they both worked in general surgery, primarily in pediatrics together, often fighting over the same interesting cases. David was interested in neurosurgery, so their paths crossed less and less.

Somehow, they all got fellowships at that same hospital. He and Regina both in Pediatrics until she was stolen by Fetal halfway through. They were well on their way to becoming full blown surgeons. But while that happened, David became more and more obsessed with work and less and less interested in his wife. Regina pretended it didn't bother her, but Robin knew her better than anyone, and knew that it hurt her. She refused to admit it, threw herself into her work too, and while it was good her career, he could see the toll it was taking on her. That ache increased, the longing to comfort her, to see her smile.

He tried to intervene, tried to talk some sense into David, but he didn't listen, brushed off Robin's advice and suggestions that they take some time off together.

David insisted they were both busy and didn't have the time for that now and Robin wondered if they'd ever have the time.

It just got worse and worse and he watched them struggle, watched as David increasingly ignored her and how it slowly broke her.

Regina confided in him one night (right before everything got fucked up) that sometimes she wondered if it was all worth it, the long hours, the no life outside of work, the giving up on a family. He heard her voice catch on that last part and he told her being doctor didn't mean you couldn't have a family. She reminded him she didn't want to be like her mother, and that she wouldn't bring a child into a world where it wasn't its parents' number one priority. It was left unspoken who wouldn't make the child a priority.

"And besides," she had went on, "I'm not getting any younger."

He knew that feeling all too well, he had always thought he'd have children by now, but life and work got in the way and it just didn't seem in the cards for him, he could barely make a relationship work.

"My life hasn't exactly turned out how I thought it would either, but I think if it's meant to be it will happen for you."

"You know I always pictured you as a dad, and you'd be a good one."

He had shrugged, "I'm not so sure, look at me, 38 and single, I haven't been in a serious relationship since before med school."

She frowns, "What about that nurse what was her name?"

He shakes his head, "That was just sex."

"Oh."

"You would make a great mother Regina and… you deserve that."

She blushes cutely, "I love you for your faith in me but I'm not so sure."

"I am, and trust me, I _know_ you."

She looks at him curiously and sighs, "You really do, don't you?"

"You are my best friend," he tells her and then finishes it with something he shouldn't, "And I love you so much. You are so brilliant and kind and passionate. David is an idiot for what he's doing to you. You deserve so much better. You should be the centre of someone's world. I just hate to see you like this and I don't know what I'd do without—"

He's cut off by their lips meeting. He has a moment of being frozen because this can't be real. It's when she begins to pull away that he regains his senses and kisses her back pulling her in close. It's like coming home, he pours every repressed emotion from the last 16 years into the kiss. It's the best kiss he's ever had and his hands come to tangle in her hair and it just feels so right. He can't believe he's waited so long for this, but now that he has it he's never letting go.

A "What the Hell?" startles them out of the kiss and then everything goes to shit.


	3. Head Above Water

Doctors Mills and Locksley struggle to get through the pandemic  
End the shutdown was trending the other day which angered me then this happened

* * *

Being a doctor during this pandemic is absolute hell. Watching as all the wrong actions are taken, knowing what is to come and being fucking powerless to stop it.

Delivering babies gets scarier. She's worried about what they are getting exposed to, every preemie with fragile lungs who has to stay she agonizes over. She wonders _what if_ with each one she loses.

She doesn't cut much anymore, they cancel all the surgeries they can, they discharge patients left and right to make room, ensuring no one is put at risk who doesn't have to be. It's not a choice that they have, but they give it to every patient they can.

Their efforts don't do enough though. They are grossly unprepared which only becomes more obvious as people ignore their recommendations, as travel and mass gatherings continue.

She and Robin stop watching the news early on, cannot stand to see people downplay the risks and compare it to influenza.

The president is a fucking idiot, something they've always known but comes even more apparent as he does nothing to help them, to protect them, or even to attempt to flatten the curve.

Their state falls behind, her old home, New York, is shut down, and she hears the horror stories from her former colleagues, but still, Washington state doesn't close non-essential businesses until the end of March.

They are screwed. There is not enough–not enough staff, not enough beds, not enough equipment and not enough PPE. Their hospital is one of the worst for that. Turns out they somehow only have a one week supply of PPE, just one fucking week when everyone in the medical community has known this would blow up for months; it's absurd and unconscionable. She has a set of N95's she donates immediately, as do others, but it's not enough to combat the gross incompetence of their management and the lack of supply.

She's enraged at nearly everything, sees people out in equipment they don't need and are using improperly and her blood boils. She protects the public from her risk, and only goes out when absolutely necessary, but soon has to stop going out at all after she absolutely loses it on this woman who makes a snippy comment that Regina's surgical mask won't protect her.

She works and sleeps, then goes back in and repeats. The days are long and hard, and they only get worse. They run short-staffed every day as someone new is sent home with a cough or fever. They see the worst of this disease and live in fear, not of getting it, they've all essentially resigned themselves to that inevitability, it's just a question of when, how severe, and how patients and colleagues they pass it onto.

Tensions are high and everyone is doing the best they can, but it is not enough. Then supplies start to run out, and Gold does even worse than he has been as their chief of staff—something she wouldn't have thought was possible—and prioritizes the safety of doctors over nurses, as if one life means more than another, leaving their colleagues unprotected and exposed.

She finds out from an ER nurse who is maskless and gownless, and she's utterly appalled, but gets pulled into emergency surgery, where she feels almost guilty for wearing her surgical mask, since apparently that's the only form of protection they have left for their nurses (if you can even call it that).

By the time she finishes she's in hour twenty of her shift and is due back the next afternoon. The scalding shower she takes before leaving is the only thing that keeps her awake enough to make it the five-minute walk home. She touches nothing, the door opens automatically with her fob which she meticulously sanitizes and she uses her elbow to hit the elevator button, which she then wipes down with the disinfectant wipes she keeps on her person at all times. She breathes into the cloth mask a resident of her building sewed for her, and doesn't take it off until she's in her apartment. She finds Robin asleep in their bed (they thought about trying to keep apart, but with all the stress they need each other and they'd both be down if one of them got it anyway). She snuggles in beside him, careful not to wake him, and he's gone by the time she wakes up.

She doesn't see him at all that shift, doesn't really think on it until she finds out second hand that her husband has been _fired_ for broadcasting their awful working conditions.

She is livid, but there are patients to treat, and she pushes it all down until she can leave and rush home.

She reads his post on the way home, he didn't say anything that wasn't true, had openly scolded Gold for his mismanagement which is deserved, brought much needed attention to their plight, which blew up on social media.

In a fucking crisis where there is a shortage of healthcare professionals, Robin got fired. She wants so badly to quit in protest, to show Gold, but she can't, not with what's happening.

How could he do that? Robin called him out, but so what? What kind of a message does that send?

She used to love working at this hospital but now it's tarnished, and she can never look at it the same way again.

Robin's waiting for her when she gets there, sitting in the armchair, a glass of whiskey in his hand that she can tell from his eyes isn't his first. She sits down onto his lap and wraps her arms around him, tells him she's sorry, her heart breaking as he starts to sob.

When his shoulders stop shaking, she gets up and off of him only long enough to refill his glass and pour herself one, then she settles back onto his lap, sipping at her drink as her free hand trails his face, his arm, his back.

"I knew I was going to get in shit for that. I knew there was the potential for this, but it was worth the risk if it saved even one person but…" he sniffles and pulls her in tighter, "I didn't think he would actually…"

"I'm so sorry, Robin."

"I have to… I already contacted that field hospital they are going to set up and offered my time. I need to make a few more calls. I can't just sit here when…"

He doesn't have to say anymore, she knows and tells him such. They sit, and drink and mourn, then they are off to bed, together for the first time in ages. She holds him close as they fall asleep.

In the morning she heads back to work. They didn't talk about how he felt about it, didn't need to, he understands more than anyone why she has to go back.

She delivers four babies that day to scared mothers who do not want to be there, one of whom tried to have her baby at home and almost lost it because of that. She wonders, not for the first time, how many more of those cases she'll see, and worse how many more will come in too late.

She walks by a nurse she doesn't recognize who is bawling and while she knows she should try and offer some comfort, she has nothing to say. There is nothing that makes this better, so she walks away. She tells herself someone else will help that girl, that she will be okay, even though they are all far from okay.

When she gets off work, Robin is gone, already started at a nearby hospital who was in desperate need of people.

They see less and less of each other as time goes on. Robin works directly with COVID patients now, as does she some of the time, but it's not her primary job, so he moves his stuff into the guest room, uses the guest bathroom. They try to keep their contaminated areas separate as much as possible, get tested when they can, which is rarer than they'd like because they are asymptomatic, a blessing but still a concern.

They really try to keep their distance because they have very different exposures now, but some days it is too much to handle alone. The first day she loses a baby because the mother had the virus and delivered too soon, she bawls in the scalding shower, then in his arms.

He's waiting for her one day when she gets home, on the couch this time, and it scares the hell out of her. She knows he would have paged her if he was sick, so she waits for the bad news, waits to hear who has died now because of this terrible illness.

It's news of a different sort, his half-sister Emma called. She never ever calls, so the worry floods Regina first until Robin explains.

Robin's only met Emma twice, at his father's funeral when his dad's double life was revealed and when he hunted her down to try and make a connection she was uninterested in. He sends her money for her son, Henry, but that's all she will allow.

"I need to…" he starts, and she itches to get closer to him, but she stays a solid ten feet back because she hasn't changed out of her outdoor clothes yet. "She works with the public, she's high risk, I told her to quit her job."

She knows what he's asking, and of course they can send her more. "We'll do whatever we can."

"She asked me… she has no one. She asked me to take Henry if something happens to her."

That's… wow. She's never even let Robin meet Henry, this is serious, and it makes her wonder, "High risk how? And you said yes, right?"

Then she curses herself for asking two questions when he only answers the second. "Yeah, I had to, he's family and—"

"Robin, look at me. I'm glad you did."

He sighs, "I still, I should have asked you first."

"No! I would have said yes, you know that, you know me."

"It's just, it all got put on hold, and we didn't get a chance to talk more about it."

It did, they were supposed to have an appointment with the social worker in mid-February to get evaluated as adoptive parents but they had to cancel, it was not the right time. Though it's highly unlikely they would have gotten a baby if they went through with it, they couldn't take that chance. They said they'd call when this is over, and that's still the plan.

"Exactly, _on hold._ You want a family, I want a family, whatever way we get a family I will be happy."

Then realizes what she's said and backtracks, "Oh god, I didn't mean, I want your sister to be okay, I'm not wishing—"

"Darling, I know, I know."

She needs to be close to him, he's distressed something more is going on but she needs to get out of these clothes. "Can I just… give me ten minutes."

He nods, "Of course, I'll be here."

Once she's stripped and showered, she settles on the couch next to him, she should keep space, but dammit it's been a long, hard day. He strokes her hair in the soothing way he always does, which makes some of her tension melt away.

"So tell me about what she said."

Her hand finds his thigh and squeezes reassuringly as his fingers dance down her neck. His eyes light up, "She said I can _meet him_. That she wants me to know him just in case. We're going to do a video chat later in the week, and that when, well she said if, but she's a pessimist, that when we get out of this I—we can meet him for real."

"That's great."

He smiles, "It really is."

She's still curious though, doesn't know much about Emma, nothing about her health. "Why is she so worried?"

"She has a bone marrow disease, polycythemia vera, recently diagnosed, and… she's pregnant."

"Oh god, when's she due?"

"September first."

Well, that's a relief, hospitals should be safe by then. But, "Is she… how's she doing? What kind of treatments are they doing? How's the baby?"

"Mild treatment is working for now. And he's okay, it's another boy. He's okay for now, but it's risky."

"And the father?"

"She didn't say except that he's out of the picture."

"Okay, we'll do whatever we can."

He smiles and echos, "'Whatever we can."

It's two weeks before they have their Skype date with Henry, and they get to meet the adorable five-year-old who instantly steals their hearts. They have one, then another and another and talking to him, and the photos and videos Emma sends them, are the one shining light in this dark time.

They make plans to meet in person, never solid ones, but they give them hope, something to look forward to.

She gets the 911 page from Robin mid-April and she _knows_. He had a headache the day before which she attributed to stress, they both did, and he's been exhausted, but they both have been, having worked so much lately.

Robin has a fever, will get his test back in three days, but she knows in her gut he's got it. They self isolate separately but by the time he gets his positive result, she's lost her sense of taste and smell.

Robin's symptoms are mild, meanwhile, she coughs so hard she strains her intercostal and spends days gasping for breath with so much weight on her chest she forgets what it's like to be able to breathe normally.

There are three days that really scare her, where Robin checks her stats every hour and watches her like a hawk. She thanks god she married another doctor and can ride this out at home without endangering her friends and colleagues.

Slowly but surely, she recovers, gets back on her feet. It takes a while but eventually, she gets back to work. She lets the thoughts of meeting Henry, maybe even his brother push her through the bad days. Thinks about their future and how one day she and Robin will adopt their own baby. She clings to those hopes and dreams until they can become a reality.

Then, she lives them.


End file.
